Dog Confessions
Recently, my husband made a confession so shocking that I'm still licking my wounds and figuring out how to handle this newfound bone of contention in our relationship. There we were, having an otherwise acceptable conversation, when he told me he would "be okay" with not getting any more dogs after our two go to that big farm in the sky.
It's like I don't even know him anymore.
I love dogs. Really, really love dogs. Back when we met, I had my first Boston terrier. He was willful and funny looking and I loved him more than a fat kid loves cake. I made it clear to anyone I dated that the dog and I were a package deal. This guy, however, had never owned a pup and fancied himself the alpha male in the house. When we moved in together, my husband-to-be expressed some concern about how much dog hair would be on the furniture, how much dog poop would be in the yard, and where the dog would sleep at night. I kindly informed him that my dog had been in my bed longer than any man had, and if we needed to find somewhere else for the man to sleep, well, there were extra bedrooms. It's no skin off my nose.
Luckily, the hubs and my beloved dog took to each other like a Boston terrier to farts. They played together, napped together, even wore matching Ohio State gear on game days. Shortly after we got married, we decided to rescue a second, younger dog, to which my husband lovingly referred as "his first puppy." He seemed happier than a dog with two tails. Three years later my beloved dog died at the age of 11, and a few months after that we got another rescue. It was a tough adjustment, and I perhaps wasn't healed from the loss of my first dog, but we made it work and became a happy pack once again. While I've never been as close to these two dogs as my first, I have always thought of them as my fur children.
My husband, on the other hand, is evidently rethinking his allegiance to man's best friend. A devoted canine enthusiast before the kiddo was born, he now ranks the dogs somewhere between an itchy mosquito bite and a benign tumor. This has got me thinking that his affection for our pets was merely a dog and pony show. Maybe he figured if he jumped through some hoops and feigned puppy love, he'd have a better chance at keeping me around. Or maybe that's a little harsh -- perhaps it's not that he doesn't love our dogs, it's just that he doesn't love them like I do.
And apparently, he isn't alone in his change of heart. Recently the husband of a dog-lover friend told us that before kids, he loved his dogs so much he probably would have given his life for them. After kids, he's more likely to push them out of the way in irritation rather than push them out of the way of an oncoming car. How did this happen? Where did we go wrong with our men? Needless to say, these guys are in the doghouse now.
Okay, maybe I will admit to a slight loss of love for my dogs after the baby (a.k.a. "hairless puppy") came. Even though I promised them my feelings wouldn't change, they became a distant second priority: two continually shedding annoyances who were always trying to climb in my lap while I tried to entertain the infant on the floor. And because I had so many extra responsibilities, I would regularly forget simple tasks like feeding and walking them. (FYI, a Boston does NOT like to wear a diaper.) Despite all this, I would never consider living in a dogless house. Who would help the kid stare out the window and watch the cars go by? More importantly, who would clean up all the food the kid throws on the floor? Besides, I still love my dogs. I just love them more when they leave me alone and don't poop underneath the swing set on purpose.
I'm trying to forget about his comment and let sleeping dogs lie, all while secretly hoping that when his "first puppy" crosses the Rainbow Bridge he is so torn up that he finally recognizes the depth of his love for dogs. I'm trying, but it's tough to muzzle my upset. And I don't think my hubs is taking too kindly to my rubbing the dog's ears and explaining to him in a cutesy voice that "daddy doesn't love him anymore, no he doesn't, does he?"
If my wants me to be happy, he'll let every dog have its day -- and let me have every day with a dog.
It's like I don't even know him anymore.
I love dogs. Really, really love dogs. Back when we met, I had my first Boston terrier. He was willful and funny looking and I loved him more than a fat kid loves cake. I made it clear to anyone I dated that the dog and I were a package deal. This guy, however, had never owned a pup and fancied himself the alpha male in the house. When we moved in together, my husband-to-be expressed some concern about how much dog hair would be on the furniture, how much dog poop would be in the yard, and where the dog would sleep at night. I kindly informed him that my dog had been in my bed longer than any man had, and if we needed to find somewhere else for the man to sleep, well, there were extra bedrooms. It's no skin off my nose.
Luckily, the hubs and my beloved dog took to each other like a Boston terrier to farts. They played together, napped together, even wore matching Ohio State gear on game days. Shortly after we got married, we decided to rescue a second, younger dog, to which my husband lovingly referred as "his first puppy." He seemed happier than a dog with two tails. Three years later my beloved dog died at the age of 11, and a few months after that we got another rescue. It was a tough adjustment, and I perhaps wasn't healed from the loss of my first dog, but we made it work and became a happy pack once again. While I've never been as close to these two dogs as my first, I have always thought of them as my fur children.
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| What's not to love? Besides the shedding, snoring, and pillow-hogging, I mean. |
My husband, on the other hand, is evidently rethinking his allegiance to man's best friend. A devoted canine enthusiast before the kiddo was born, he now ranks the dogs somewhere between an itchy mosquito bite and a benign tumor. This has got me thinking that his affection for our pets was merely a dog and pony show. Maybe he figured if he jumped through some hoops and feigned puppy love, he'd have a better chance at keeping me around. Or maybe that's a little harsh -- perhaps it's not that he doesn't love our dogs, it's just that he doesn't love them like I do.
And apparently, he isn't alone in his change of heart. Recently the husband of a dog-lover friend told us that before kids, he loved his dogs so much he probably would have given his life for them. After kids, he's more likely to push them out of the way in irritation rather than push them out of the way of an oncoming car. How did this happen? Where did we go wrong with our men? Needless to say, these guys are in the doghouse now.
Okay, maybe I will admit to a slight loss of love for my dogs after the baby (a.k.a. "hairless puppy") came. Even though I promised them my feelings wouldn't change, they became a distant second priority: two continually shedding annoyances who were always trying to climb in my lap while I tried to entertain the infant on the floor. And because I had so many extra responsibilities, I would regularly forget simple tasks like feeding and walking them. (FYI, a Boston does NOT like to wear a diaper.) Despite all this, I would never consider living in a dogless house. Who would help the kid stare out the window and watch the cars go by? More importantly, who would clean up all the food the kid throws on the floor? Besides, I still love my dogs. I just love them more when they leave me alone and don't poop underneath the swing set on purpose.
I'm trying to forget about his comment and let sleeping dogs lie, all while secretly hoping that when his "first puppy" crosses the Rainbow Bridge he is so torn up that he finally recognizes the depth of his love for dogs. I'm trying, but it's tough to muzzle my upset. And I don't think my hubs is taking too kindly to my rubbing the dog's ears and explaining to him in a cutesy voice that "daddy doesn't love him anymore, no he doesn't, does he?"
If my wants me to be happy, he'll let every dog have its day -- and let me have every day with a dog.
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